


Sixteen is a Difficult Age

by Amorette



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 07:34:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14350872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amorette/pseuds/Amorette
Summary: I have suffered from chronic depression since my early teen years. Which is why I really hate bullies.





	Sixteen is a Difficult Age

**Author's Note:**

> Early draft had a beta but this one did not so feel free to point out problems, no matter how minor. Originally part of a series but my muse left this winter for warmer climes.

My mother had her hand on my shoulder as I walked up to the coffin. I didn't want to see Sev lying in his coffin but I knew I should look. Then I could believe he was really dead.

He was lying there, in a black suit with a green tie. The suit was new. I had been told that the Board of Governors of Hogwarts was paying for the funeral. They were refunding all his school fees, according to rumor, as if that could somehow make up for what happened.

I closed my eyes, trying to picture Sev's face the last time I saw him. He was crying, begging me to forgive him for calling me a bad name. The agony I saw in his face made me even less willing to forgive him. I didn't want to see him grovel and his groveling just made me angrier.

The next morning, I was still angry when I was summoned to Professor McGonagall's office. The prefect told me I was to come immediately, not even bother to collect my books. The school was in an uproar, she said, although she didn't know why. I wondered if James Potter was finally going to be punished for his bullying.

He was but there was much more.

Professor McGonagall was waiting for me. As soon as I sat down, she handed me a cup of tea and said, "Drink up," in such a commanding voice that I did so without thinking. The tea tasted a bit odd but I was too distracted to care.

She looked drawn and tired. Maybe punishing her golden boy had annoyed her. After a moment of fussing, she folded her hands on top of her desk and fixed me with an intent stare.

"I understand you were witness to a distasteful incident yesterday afternoon."

"Yes, Professor." Suddenly, I wished I had forgiven Severus. Distasteful was a pretty mild way to describe what James Potter had done.

"And yet you didn't see fit to tell any of the faculty that one student had sexually assaulted another?"

"Sexual! It wasn't. . ."

"If James Potter had exposed your genitals in front of dozens of other students, would you have considered that sexual assault?"

"I didn't think of it that way. I mean, boys are. . ." I really wished I could talk to Severus right now.

"I am going to ask you to place your memory of the assault in a Pensive. The Board of Governors is investigating the attack, as well as previous incidents. Am I correct that Mr. Snape did nothing to provoke Mr. Potter."

I shook my head, wondering if I could see Sev as soon as I left. “No, Severus didn't do anything. He was just sitting there and . . .” 

McGonagall waited, sipping her tea. “And?”

I swallowed another sip of mine. “Sev was looking over his notes and James and Sirius came along and attacked him, for no reason!” I was suddenly indignant on Sev’s behalf. “No reason except to be horrible to poor Sev.”

Poor Sev. I really needed to talk to him. What he said was horrible but he had reason to be upset. I blinked, not wanting to cry in front of my Head of House.

McGonagall set down her cup, drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We believe that the assault was the trigger for what happened early this morning." Another slow, deep breath. "Severus Snape jumped off the Astronomy Tower."

"What?" I realized that McGonagall had put a calming draught in my tea because I didn't feel as upset as I should. That was the odd taste. I should have recognized it but I had been off-guard. "Was he hurt badly?"

"He was killed in the fall. Mr. Filch found his body at the base of the tower this morning. We found his wand, broken in half, on top of the tower. We believe he broke it so he couldn't instinctively save himself as he fell."

I couldn't think. I couldn't speak. All I could do was stare at McGonagall while thinking over and over, Sev is dead. He can't be dead. He's my best friend. He taught me about magic. He can't be dead.

The Board of Governors," continued McGonagall, "is investigating. We believe that Mr. Potter's repeated bullying had a great deal to do with Mr. Snape's suicide. They feel that we at Hogwarts have not done enough to protect our students and, in this case, I must agree. I know we have looked aside at some of the bullying that happens at this school, telling ourselves it's just children being children. But what happened yesterday. . .”

McGonagall’s voice trailed off for a moment, then she started again, sounding angry herself. “Everyone says bullying is just part of growing up. Children need to learn how to deal with it. But I think bullying shouldn’t be a part of growing up.”

The tears finally started sliding down my cheeks. I found a handkerchief in my hand and I started to cry.

"He can't be dead," I gasped, "Sev was such a good wizard."

"Yes." McGonagall sighed. "Quite one of the most brilliant students I ever taught. Transfiguration wasn’t his best subject yet he did better than many. He was an unhappy young man, I know, but he was so talented and clever and powerful, I always assumed he would manage. I suspect our world has lost a great deal more than just an ordinary student."

I sat and cried in McGonagall's office for quite some time before she made me take more of the tea and eat some toast. She told me that exams were cancelled that day. I later heard from other students what happened at breakfast.

Professor Flitwick had made the announcement, that the exams were postponed because of Sev's death. Apparently, Dumbledore was meeting with the Board. He also said that anyone who witnessed any attacks against Severus or any other student were to tell a teacher so their memories could be examined. I'm told Flitwick also wept a little as spoke, describing Severus as one his finest, most talented, most intelligent students.

Flitwick also said that some students were meeting with the Board of Governors and that there would be punishments for those responsible.

James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were all missing at that breakfast, and none of them were ever seen at Hogwarts again.

To make it even worse, McGonagall made me pull out the memory of my last conversation with Severus. She patted my shoulder, assuring me that I wasn't responsible for Sev's suicide, that there were multiple factors, but it didn't help.

I'd never pulled out a memory before. I found that it made them more distant and gave me the strength to get through the next few days.

I was allowed to postpone my exams for two weeks, since everyone knew I was Sev's best friend. His only friend, really.

I spoke to the Board of Governors after they viewed my memories; they asked lots of questions about how Sirius Black and James Potter abused Severus. In the end, I extracted dozens of memories of events over the years.The faces of the Board became grimmer with each account.

Now I was standing next to Sev's coffin, staring down at his still face. He had always had a waxen pallor but I hadn't realized until that moment how his face was always moving, eyebrows up and down, brow creasing, biting his lip, eyes staring intently at my face, head twitching to toss his hair back. Now it was as still as a waxwork. Someone, I suppose the undertaker, had trimmed his hair to a more respectable muggle length.

I turned into my mother's embrace, sobbing. The odd thought came to me. Sev had told me about Thestrals. He could see them because his grandmother died when he was little but I couldn't. Now I would be able to see them. Sev said they are terrible and beautiful at the same time. I think, rather like Sev.

Sev's parents were sitting by the coffin, his mother in a black dress that looked crisp and new, his father in a black suit, as new as Sev’s. I went over to speak to them but he just stared at me, frowning. I don’t know that he was grieving his son so much as uncomfortable in his stiff new clothes, on his best behavior.

Mrs. Snape, clutching her handkerchief, was shaking and whispering to herself, “My poor boy.” I told her I was sorry for her loss but I don’t think she heard me. She never seemed to notice how miserable Sev was and now that she did, it was too late.

Most of the professors were at the funeral, in muggle clothes. McGonagall wore a dark green suit with black ribbon pinned to her lapel with a sprig of heather. Even Flitwick was there, sitting next to a solemn Slughorn, both in black with black armbands. Dumbledore wasn't there. I thought it might be because of his long hair and beard would look odd to these people but Mrs. Snape told my mother afterwards that she had asked that Dumbledore not attend, since she blamed the headmaster for her son's death.

I didn't go out to the cemetery. Mum understood. She said watching the coffin being lowered into the ground was so final.

I didn't visit Sev's grave until later in the summer. I took my O.W.L. results with me and read them to him. I told him what McGonagall had said to me after I finished my exams; James Potter and Sirius Black had been expelled. Permanently. They were probably going to finish their educations abroad, since their parents could afford it. Remus Lupin wasn't to be expelled but he wasn't to be a prefect anymore. He didn’t come back to school that fall anyway. McGonagall said it was because of his health.

When I returned in the spring, the temporary marker had been replaced with a handsome black granite stone. The engraving made me snort. I read it to Sev. There was a banner across the top, inscribed 'Our Beloved Son.' He would have found that funny. Then his name and the date of his birth and death. His death was a year behind me that day, and I brought a bouquet of lilies to lay on his grave.  Real ones, from a Muggle florist, that cost my dad quite a packet.

I transfigured the ones I brought the next year, because dad had passed away and money was a bit tight. I knew Mum would have let me spend it for Sev, but I didn’t want to burden her. Besides, Sev deserved magical flowers, transformed from the weeds that grew in the neighborhood. As he had shown me how to do so long ago.

My N.E.W.T results weren't what I hoped for but after Sev died, I had decided not to remain in the magical world. We had both thought Hogwarts and magic would save us from the sadness and sorrow of the real world but both learned that, in many ways, the magical world was worse. A small, narrow-minded, old-fashioned, population didn't bode well for me, I decided.

Just as well, as it turned out. There was some sort of turmoil among wizards and witches after I started attending uni. I lost what little contact I had in the magical world as whatever the trouble was played out. 

I was pleased to find out there was a way to take my Hogwarts exams and apply them to some muggle education. I majored in psychology and now work with children who have been abused and bullied. I couldn't save Sev but I have devoted my life to saving other children.

I visit his grave twice a year, on his birthday and once the date of his death and I always leave lilies. One bit of magic I still use is putting a charm on them so they last, no matter the weather.  I still talk to him. My parents are both gone now, as are the Snapes and I rarely communicate with my sister, so I have no one to talk to about memories of Severus.

And I wonder, what would have my life been like if I had forgiven Sev that day. If I had reported James Potter for his abuse. If I had only realized that children are the cruelest creatures in the world - wizard, witch or muggle.


End file.
